


The Dance

by Bluethenstaub



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Female Presenting Crowley, Historical Inaccuracy, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-25 23:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20034217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluethenstaub/pseuds/Bluethenstaub
Summary: "Do you want to dance?""My dear, are you finally willing to dance the Gavotte with me?"





	The Dance

When Crowley danced with the Tsar, Aziraphale didn't take his eyes off them.

Crowley was styled in the top of fashion, of course. His hair was styled in a way that he looks almost as if he was one of the angels again. The dress suited him so well that any other person in the room vanished behind his beauty.

Crowley and Aziraphale had met earlier this evening, by chance. Both one of them had an assignment here in Russia. Aziraphale had wandered through the halls of the palace, seemingly lost. He wasn't lost. He just wasn't sure where he had to go.

The demon had been here a while longer, he had learned. Well, the only reason Aziraphale had been here for less time, was that he had gone to the wrong palace first.

He didn't tell Crowley, that he had grabbed a souvenir over there, one of those nice Fabergé eggs which were standing around everywhere over there. Why did they need so many of them anyways? The point is, a jewelled egg in a chariot pulled by a little putto would fit perfectly into his bookshop, he already had the perfect place to put it. He had a shelf filled with cookbooks, an egg would be perfect for it!

The egg was save in a package to London, and Aziraphale was save on Crowley's arm. Together they had made their way to the ball tonight, together they could dance the whole night long until the sunrise.

There were several problems: No one was dancing the Gavotte. Crowley wasn't able to dance the Gavotte. Aziraphale wasn't able to dance anything but the Gavotte. When Aziraphale had asked Crowley to dance it with him, he had only gotten a strange look. Seconds later, some man had swept by and had taken Crowley to waltz with him. Aziraphale had taken something to eat and had started to watch Crowley dance with countless men.

The dances were supposed to stay decent.

And yet.

A smile here.

A light touch there.

A whisper into an ear.

A stab in Aziraphale's heart.

Was he jealous? No, of course not. He was an angel, angels couldn't get jealous. Why would they? To feel jealousy, they'd have to feel possessive and that was one of the few impossible things in the world.

And yet.

Aziraphale's stomach hurt every time Crowley passed him by while dancing with someone. Crowley's smell stayed with him for a moment, until the next couple passed him and it started to faint.

Round and round he went, with different men, once or twice a woman.

Up and down Aziraphale's hand went, with different dishes, more than often a wine.

People talk to him, but not one conversation stayed with him. The person gone, Aziraphale had already forgotten what they talked about, eyes searching for his demon in the crowd of dancers again.

Once or twice he was gone.

Once he found him with some ladies laughing and chatting at the side of the hall.

Once he found him getting some wine.

Aziraphale tried to get towards him, to offer him something to eat, to engage him in a conversation, anything. But two noblewomen crossed his path, engaging him in a conversation about occultism.

When Aziraphale was free again, after what seemed like hours, Crowley was back in some man's arms, enjoying himself.

When Crowley finally turned up next to Aziraphale, the night was almost over.

"You didn't dance," he said, still a little bit out of breath.

"You danced enough for both of us," Aziraphale answered.

Crowley leaned over to his ear and lowered his voice. "I noticed you watching me." His breath was warm at Aziraphale's ear. His smell was overwhelming. French perfume, he would guess.

"It's hard not to look at you, you take the room in like it's yours."

"Do you want to dance?"

"My dear, are you finally willing to dance the Gavotte with me?"

"Heaven, no! Come with me!" Without waiting for an answer, Crowley grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the ballroom, into a formerly locked room some halls down.

It was faint, but if they concentrated they could still hear the music.

"What are we doing here?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley smiled. "Dancing, of course," he answered and placed Aziraphale's hand at his shoulder, the second hand secure in his own. "Just follow my lead."

Several miracles happened that morning.

An angel and a demon were waltzing together in perfect harmony.

The angel's feet never stepped on the demon's.

There were smiles.

There were light touches.

There was no whisper, as no words were needed.

Aziraphale's heart felt light.

Just for some hours, an angel and a demon were both able to forget about their missions.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are appreciated.
> 
> I can be found on [tumblr](flashbastardwithsunglasses.tumblr.com)


End file.
